


Seven Witches of Sin

by Bundlino



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bang Chan-centric, But the strategy and tactics aren't really mentioned lmao, Changbin is mean for a reason, Changbin makes an appearance, Contracts, Inspired by Re:Zero anime, Lee Minho | Lee Know-centric, M/M, Magic, Magical Artifacts, Memory Magic, Parallel Universes, Plot Twist, Seven Deadly Sins, Sins, Strategy & Tactics, Witches, oh yeah minho likes tea, realms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29797200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bundlino/pseuds/Bundlino
Summary: Chan must gamble on the world's safety with the help of an unexpected villain.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Kudos: 17





	Seven Witches of Sin

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically taken from a Re:Zero scene (an anime) but i put my own spin on it

The world was defeated in its fight against the apocalypse, and it was Chan's fault.

But he doesn't remember exactly how he got here. All he does know is the existence of a Shadow Being. One strong enough and definitely capable of causing such eerie silence on a global scale. 

In the quiet sidewalks of Seoul — everywhere Chan eyed, gloomy and grey — he could spot the innocent pedestrians completely turned into stone. Their last remaining moments with their families by their sides, he can still see the shock on their faces when he briefly stares at them. No matter how lifeless they appear to be. Chan hesitates in lightly touching a stranger's shoulder but doesn't dare. It begins to cause uneasiness in his stomach, and the sky threatens to downpour.

"I'm sorry."

But he's not sure what he means himself.

He heads for a nearby shopping center to cool off his emotions. Twenty stories tall. He feels like he's been inside before. Passing the glass displays with perfumes. Sprinting by some of those cutout cardboard celebrities. Fully running in the opposite direction of employees in every corner that have all transformed to irreversible rock — a reminder of his mistakes — some midway in putting down storage boxes or others merely halfway up an escalator and cutting off his path. It all seems too familiar.

The elevator is the next quickest option. 

A food court is on floor nine. Same as three. Large and vast, containing many options from meats to sweets. Floor ten is more surprising, being one of the biggest arcades he's ever laid eyes on. Carpet instead of polished tile, cozy-looking walls and dimly lit sconces. 

Just as the door slides shut behind him, lights flicker. On and off for a brief moment. Probably because of the rain outside making quick work already.

Over by the air hockey table are two kids. One on each side, with a vibrant red striker in their right hands. The puck is stuck in the middle with no where to go, he can't help but notice. The sounds of racing games with driver wheels can be heard in the background, the engines roaring. Far away and inaudible, like static. For some reason, he feels empty. And the virtual screen of race cars screech, amplifying his loud thoughts and burning away at what little calmness he had. Chan sighed, frustratingly so, while he flicked the puck in a particularly random direction with his mind. The aim is good, and it lands in one of the goals. The table celebrates in a victorious noise, and he looks down at the scoreboard. 

5 - 7. 

Well, at least somebody won.

The basketball hoop machine is no different. A teenager occupying its space, with the ball still in his hands, ready to be launched but never quite doing exactly that. Somehow, for whatever reason, Chan feels deeply that he has seen this before too.

A jaw clench, along with grinding teeth. Chan can't help but blame himself, and the basketball pops a hole. A result of his unchecked emotions. It deflates in the teenager's palm, much like Chan's will. Before he can even begin to curse, a specific light catches his attention in the corner of his vision. Not from a game. But a black photo booth, and its dark purple shut curtain. He's definitely suspicious, because it wasn't there before. 

Lime green peeks below the large drape.

An odd sensation builds in Chan's chest. Not one of fear. But caution and curiosity, and a hint of familiarity. It pulls at him like an invisible string, almost beckoning him over with its magnetic effect. Chan stops right before the veil, looking down once again at something out of place. In the outside compartment is a flimsy set of film. Old but cool to the touch.

It's Chan. In the series of eight pictures.

The first one is him by himself. Smiling into the camera. A second with a man he's never seen before. Round cheeks, and an odd resemblance to a quokka. Strange. Never in his life has he ever gone into a photo booth before. The next is one with a tall man and long hair, grinning from ear to ear. The one after, a guy with freckles. After that, a man with raging biceps. However, there's a bit of red filter to the image. Then the sixth, a darker red. With a boy who looks younger. The seventh, if possible, this is probably the youngest boy, though he's not sure on the specifics. This one is harder to see as the tint engulfs most of the shot. And lastly...

An eighth image. Chan is barely there. Yet the other person standing next to him is burned out. Face and body undetectable. As if the bottom of the film were set aflame, bits of edges black. He can't seem to make anything of it, so he doesn't bother trying. Nothing seems to make sense. Perhaps he's okay with that, or maybe he's gotten to the point of not caring. He can't really tell. These people mean nothing to him. Absolute strangers.

So he looks onward to the curtain in his way, and it's only now that his legs may have stage freight. The possibility of this lime light being the work of the Shadow Being crosses his mind. He takes one final glance around the arcade. A once cheerful place now ominously quiet and void of any life. There's nothing left for him here. Or anywhere. He's the last person alive.

And with that, he has nothing left to lose. He opens the drape. Its blinding rays surround him, swallowing him whole, because that's what portals do.

Somewhere very far, far away — farther than the cities and beaches that he loved so much, farther than any land imaginable — is a grassy and hilly meadow. The lime portal opens up and forcefully spits Chan out on one of the peaks. He stumbles his footing and begins to tumble recklessly down the landscape, which isn't much of a big height, until he softly lands flat on his chest. A groan escapes his mouth, and he's somewhat dizzy. This doesn't appear to be the city at all. 

Once he picks himself up, and dusts himself off, and his sight straightens out. His breath hitches. 

Right in front of him, merely a few feet away, is a young man dressed in onyx black. Loose fitting long sleeve with jagged styling at the end to cover the wrists and some of the palms. Leather jeans and a long earring prettily dangling. This man has silver grey hair, admittedly breath-taking, one leg crossed over the other while he sits in an out-of-place white chair. The round table is elegant, a purple umbrella with white outline standing upright in the center and shading him from any harmful sun. A purple vase right next to it, with green leaves and violet flowers. He hasn't noticed Chan, or perhaps he chooses not to look up at him yet. 

With one hand, small and precise, he simply stirs slowly at the cup of tea. 

He's.. _beautiful_.

"Welcome back, Chan," the mysterious man's voice is sweet, a cunning smile gently tugging on his face. He finally makes eye contact. Just for a brief moment.

Chan's caught off guard. He can sense a great power from him. The man's pupils are hazel, or golden. Or both. With strong features elsewhere to boot.

"Please, sit," he motions to the chair that Chan didn't notice before, placing his attention back to the drink. So there's two chairs, and Chan has to shake his head for a second to make sure this is real. 

Somehow, he does as told. It's a little relieving to see another person, and he has so many questions.

Yet the cup of tea is still being mixed, gently and without urgency. Peacefully. Clinking of spoon against white glass. Neverending fields of flat grass surrounding them, and a cloudless blue sky. Unlike the previous one in the city. It all seems so otherwordly, enriched with magic that Chan can't quite pinpoint, and he isn't exactly sure what to do or say for now. 

The man simply keeps stirring, and stirring. Eyes fixated on the task. He looks so unbothered. 

After several more seconds of metal clanking, it can't help but feel deliberate and awkward. Chan shifts in his seat a little as the other calmly continues. There's nothing for his ears to hone in on, except the stirring. The stirring that makes his heart stutter at every sound. 

Chan clears his throat. 

The stirring stops. Pretty eyelashes on the man's face are more noticeable now. As well as a ring with a small square amber jewel resting on his pinky finger. Chan isn't sure if that was always there, maybe he was distracted. The stranger gently sets the spoon down and smiles sinisterly. 

"How rude of me. I'm one of the Seven Witches of Sin. Greed, to be exact. My other name is Minho. I'm sure you have a lot on your mind. Would you like some tea?"

Somehow it doesn't sound genuine. The concerned part, at least. It almost seems like mocking. 

"I don't understand. You're a..."

"Witch of Sin," he finishes for him. "I know your journey. Seen it all. Most things, technically. If I bother to exert the effort," his earring sways slightly as he finishes each sentence. 

"But there's six more of you?"

"Unfortunately."

Okay, Chan really doesn't want to unpack those statements right now. In fact, he believes it right away because the sheer intensity of magic radiating off this witch doesn't go unnoticed. It's scary. It feels like he can't lie. Minho will see through it.

"So about that tea?"

"No, thanks," he politely declines, still trying to digest what has been said.

"I see," Minho says, and nods equally as slow. Seemingly oozing in ulterior motive. Calculatingly tactful and taking his time. Eyeing Chan up and down before smiling once again. "Suit yourself."

In all honesty, Chan is also a witch. Not of sin. Yet he's never met someone as powerful as this. There's no way he'd win in a fight. The energy rivals that of the Shadow Being he faced off against. Maybe even overpowers it. The thought sends chills down Chan's spine. But perhaps, the enemy of his enemy is a friend?

Minho picks up his tea, and glances at Chan, not taking his eyes off him. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he brings it to his lips to drink. The audibly long sip eventually rolling down his tongue and throat. 

Ridiculously enough, it makes Chan lose focus, and he swallows absentmindedly.

After a while, Minho makes a satisfied hum and sets it back down neatly on the saucer. 

Chan looks around, avoiding eye contact and apparently remembering his environment. 

"Where is this place?" He doesn't want to stare into the eyes of a devil. "Teleportation spell?"

The evil witch smiles. 

"That's the first question you ask? Don't you have a world to save?"

"It was the only one I could think of," his ears turn slightly pink. He feels at ease, strangely enough. But also nervous.

Minho laughs, and Chan is surprised by how bubbly it sounds.

"Fair enough," he says before looking at Chan once more, placing his hands down on the table gently. "I shall tell you. Anything you want."

A small smile on Chan's face appears for the first time today. 

"But first," the witch tilts his head. It's almost smug. "There must be a reason you came here. Loss and hardship, I know that much already. The pain that you've endured," Minho frowns for a moment. "I've felt it ten times over," he reaches over and places a hand over Chan's. There isn't a spec of deceit in these words. "I want you to know you're not alone, okay?" 

For some reason, being around Minho makes Chan feel good. 

"Okay," he utters softly. Somehow, or some way, he trusts the sinful witch. "Thank you."

"Of course. Because you managed to enter the portal, it means you activated the requirement of your own free will by proving yourself capable. Thus, we shall form a contract in exchange for whatever you wish. As well as any answers to your questions."

"Contract?" he repeats. "What do you mean?"

"To briefly explain," Minho pouts because he's already getting bored. Also, side note, they're still holding hands for whatever reason, but Chan seems to have forgotten. "Upon entering this domain, one must fulfill a contract in order to receive what they wish. Should they decline, however, then I can no longer help."

"You mean," Chan hesitates, "this place isn't near my home?"

Minho almost hangs his head in disbelief, but he doesn't. He smiles patiently. "Not at all."

"Then where is it?"

"You may think of it as an inner realm. Hidden within the fabric of space and time, or perhaps outside it."

"I'm confused."

"Don't overthink it." Minho lets go of his hand, but Chan is fast in grabbing his wrist. And then he takes both his hands to hold onto Minho's hand.

It catches the Witch of Greed by surprise.

"I just— I made a horrible mistake. It was a horrible, horrible mistake," he bites his lip, "and I'm not sure what to do. If there's even anything to do."

"It's not a mistake, I assure you," Minho is glancing at their hands while he says this. If there's a slight blush on his cheek, he'd blame the sun. Even if he's technically under the shade. "Sometimes failures exist as a stepping stone. You're currently not strong enough. But eventually.."

"Then how do I defeat it? The Shadow Being?"

"I can assist," Minho offers, "but only once a contract is formed."

"Yes, anything. I'd do anything to have a reset button."

"That can be arranged, although it will require a tremendous sacrifice. Are you willing to go that far?"

Whatever it is, he'll do it. He has to.

Chan nods. "I will."

"Perfect!" Minho abruptly gets out of his chair due to excitement. Chan stares at him bewilderingly, making the Witch of Greed clear his throat in embarrassment. "Sorry, got ahead of myself."

He steps closer to Chan, motioning for him to stand up as well. Chan does.

Minho holds both of Chan's hands, and a glowing dark purple aura shrouds their fingers, slowly consuming and crawling up their wrists. 

"What do I have to do?" Chan asks again. "Is this the contract?"

"It's mostly complete," Minho slowly speaks. "Of course, now you have to offer something of equal value."

Equal value? Coming from the Witch of Greed himself, what could he possibly want? 

"My life," Chan answers. "That's what you want, isn't it? I give you my life."

Minho smiles. "To give me your life would mean we are connected. It would mean I feel what you feel. Your thoughts and emotions. Your losses and victories. I share in the same fate as you. In hopes that we achieve your goal."

Chan doesn't understand. 

"But don't you already feel what I feel?"

"Don't think too hard about it."

"You're the Witch of Greed, why would you help me so much?"

"On the contrary, if you succeed in defeating the Shadow Being — a creature of void, created by the darkest parts of humanity and sin alike — then I obtain all the more knowledge in the end," Minho smiles wickedly, and his eyes shine eerily, no longer hiding their true intent. His thirst for power knows no bounds. 

He gulps. "What do you plan on doing with this magic?" 

"Evil things."

"Explain."

"Well, for starters," Minho grins, "I'll rub it in all the other Seven Witches of Sin's faces at the next tea party. That's pretty evil, right?"

Chan can't tell if he's toying with him or not. 

"You're very strange, but I accept the terms of the contract."

The purple fire engulfing their hands sways, getting pulled and sucked in entirely by Minho's amber ring, and it disappears. "There, it is done."

A lime portal appears behind Bang Chan, making him turn to it in confusion. "What happened?"

"Should you be defeated, then your memories will begin to fade. Of course, you won't remember this if the worst result presents itself."

"My memories? But—"

"Don't worry. They're in a safe place," he offers a warm smile. This expression is different, it's filled with the most earnest desire for Chan's safety, and it makes him feel fuzzy for a fleeting moment. He's not sure if the Witch of Greed can feel his heart pounding now that they're connected. "As for you, I'm afraid you have to go for the time being."

Chan is about to open his mouth, but Minho cuts him off.

"Just remember what I said, if you meet the requirement, then we can meet again," Minho doesn't want to, but he pushes Chan into the portal. Chan's eyes stare back at him, full of questions and more things he wanted to discuss, but it disappears.

Minho purses his lips into a fine line. It's painful, and he never wants to do it. But it's necessary. Time works differently out there.

A shadow portal opens up to his right, and a cocky Changbin comes waltzing out. "Well well, you couldn't tell him, could you?"

"Go away, Lust."

"Catty," he laughs. "Always taking the easy way out."

"It's less painful that way. There's no point in diving into everything if he'll just forget." 

"You know, ever since you fell in love with each other and Chan gave you 90% of his power in order to save you from a fate worse than death at the hands of the Shadow Being, blah blah, cut out the backstory," he pretends to puke at the romance, "then disaster struck. The whole world suffered, over and over and over. Most people would just pick one over the other and be done with it. You've been fighting that Shadow Being ever since. How many times is this already?"

"Lost track. It doesn't matter though," he sighs, "I want it all. If that makes me greedy, then so be it. I know we can do it."

"Of course you two can, he's the Original Sin of Greed. He'll never stop, it's in his nature, and now it's in yours. It's not a matter of _if_ you can do it, but _when,"_ Changbin smirks, circling behind Minho and whispering into his ear. "It's a shame the Shadow Being confined you to this realm, though. It's almost like you're secretly powerless. Wouldn't that make you, the Fake Sin?"

"Enough."

"Chan chose you, so you must be really special." Lust takes that as his cue to go. The shadow portal reopens, and he exits the meadows through it, disappearing.

Minho is doing the best he can, and he knows his friend means well. That's just his way of pushing Minho to his limits for the better. In a reverse psychology kind of way. Because of Minho's average witch body, if he uses Chan's power to its full potential it'll tear him apart. The other Sins don't care what happens outside the realm, but it's Minho's home. Using parallel worlds at his fingertips is the next best thing and a tricky process, but he's able to form continuous contracts with Chan because of it. Due to that, he has accumulated enough information on the Shadow Being's weak spots. This will inevitably be checkmate, even if Chan is only at a fraction of his magic, and they'll be free.

In this moment, because time outside works differently, Minho is feeling a rush of Chan's emotions. From pain to adrenaline to sudden sadness and a glimpse of something else he's not sure of.

A cracking sound alerts him. 

He looks down at the amber ring on his finger, the fracturing continuing to split down the middle until it disperses in multiple directions. Within a matter of seconds, it falls apart and dissolves. Chan's memories are escaping. 

It's new territory. Minho doesn't know if this is a good or bad sign, so he can't help but panic. 

However, a lime portal appears behind him, and from it, a familiar face. 

"Chan!"

"Minho," he smiles widely, opening his arms up while Minho runs to hug him. Chan eases his arms to Minho's waist in a tight embrace.

"Did we do it?"

"Not quite," Chan laments. The impossibility of killing off the Shadow Being has always been at the back of their heads. It survives just like any human or witch or sin would. Without it, perhaps it would throw off the balance of the world. "But for now, it's gone. I don't think it'll be back for a long time."

"Even so, that's a win in my book."

Technically they didn't succeed or fail, so the contract will be null and void. 

Chan kisses Minho's forehead. "325 attempts, by the way. But who's counting."

Minho snorts. "Well, welcome back."

**Author's Note:**

> for the sake of creativity i had sins for the other members but i was too lazy to write them into the story
> 
> wrath: hyunjin  
> pride: felix  
> greed: minho/chan  
> lust: changbin  
> envy: seungmin  
> sloth: jeongin  
> gluttony: jisung


End file.
